Even Gentlemen Get Sick
by Nixi Who
Summary: Requested on tumblr. Even gentlemen get sick sometimes. Layclaire.


**AN: Requested on tumblr by boundstruck-mara: _maybe some fluff with one of them (preferably Layton) catching a cold and the other would try to take care of them?_**

**I don't own Professor Layton.**

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Even Gentlemen Get Sick

"You know, dear, you really don't have to go into work today..." the redheaded scientist pointed out to her sweetheart as he sat at the kitchen counter, sipping his tea and trying to hide his sniffs and coughs. "In fact, I believe I should rephrase: you really _shouldn't _be going into work today."

Claire walked over to where Hershel sat and studied his face carefully. His skin was most definitely paler than normal and perspiration was beginning to rise to the surface of his brow. On top of that, his eyes were beginning to water, his sinuses of course, clogged, and his nose bright red. Claire had also noticed the archaeologist speaking in a rather hoarse voice that morning and his voice had not improved at all, even after this piping hot tea. With her brow furrowing as she approached the not-quite-yet Professor, she placed the back of her hand on his forehead. Her frown increased at the warmth that was being emitted from Hershel's forehead.

"As I suspected, you're unwell," Claire announced, as she propped herself up on the seat next to him. "Honestly, the University will understand if you can't go in. besides, they don't want a feverish student on the teaching course, do they? I'll phone them to let them know you're unable to go in today, once I've got you warmed up in bed."

Hershel shook his head as he finally managed to get a word in edgeways. "Now, Claire, I'm-" The Professor paused to clear his throat; a loud, chesty cough coming out, which only proved his girlfriend's point more. "... I'm sure that's not necessary..."

"Oh, but it is!" Claire waved her hand in dismissal. "Go on! Off to bed with you, Mr." The redhead gave him a firm look to show just how serious she was.

Pushing his empty teacup across to the other side of the counter, Hershel shook his head once more. He was perfectly adamant that he was fine. It was early December, everybody got sick this time of year. The sudden drop in the temperature, from the mildly bitter breezes to the strong icy gusts was a curse the whole of England had to bear- not just him! It was just a mere case of the sniffles and not worth missing an entire day's worth of his Professorship course for. After all, even the lecturer had been suffering from a sore throat the day before, and if he could handle it, surely he'd expect his students to do the same?

"Claire, you know as well as I do," Hershel began to protest, "that a gentleman doesn't simply ignore his responsibilities..."

"Oh, don't give me that!" Claire exclaimed, as she stood up and hopped over to the cupboards, searching for some medication to aid in calming some of the archaeologists fiery symptoms. "_You _know as well as _I _do, that everybody gets sick. Even gentlemen!"

"But, Claire-"

"No buts!" Claire quickly interrupted, spinning around on her heels and holding her finger out in front of her. "Go on, bed!"

Letting out a reluctant sigh, Hershel stood up from the counter and nodding towards the scientist. "Very, well... If you say so."

"I do," Claire gave a triumphant nod. "Now, go and change back into your pyjamas and I'll make you some _fruit _tea and phone the University."

Hershel wrinkled his nose. "_Fruit _tea?" He shook his head, "Oh, no, I'm sure English breakfast tea will do perfectly..."

Claire's frown then returned, as she began to relate his behaviour of protesting and fussiness to that of a child's. Secretly, she was finding this slightly amusing, but the redhead knew more than better to show it. Since he was acting like a child, perhaps she would have to treat him like one.

"Normal tea will do the opposite of helping with phlegmy coughs, because it's a thick liquid, whereas fruit tea will sooth your throat," Claire informed him with her arms folded over her chest. "Now do I have to tell you again to go to bed?"

Hershel gave the smallest of chuckles as he turned towards the door. "All right, all right, I'm going..." He gave in and headed back to the bedroom, as Claire put the kettle on top of the stove and put it to boil, before she went over to the landline and telephoned the University.

Several minutes later, the telephone call was made and the tea was ready. The redhead carried the teacup through into the bedroom, to find the archaeologist changed back into his striped pyjamas and tucked under the sheets, whereas his red cap was sitting on the bedside table. Claire couldn't help but smile in content. No one was perfect of course- in fact, most were far from. But sometimes she needed a little reminder every now and then that even Hershel Layton wasn't perfect. After all, even gentlemen get sick.

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**AN: I hope you enjoyed my little drabble here. **

**Remember, you can catch my updates on my tumblr **(nixi-says-stuff . tumblr . com)** and my twitter **( NixiTheGinger)**.**

**Reviews are great! :)**

**Nixi~**


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